


From The Ends Of The World, A Postcard

by out_there



Category: Sports Night
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-27
Updated: 2005-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-15 12:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/out_there/pseuds/out_there
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one that could be said about Dan Rydell was that he had a rather whimsical approach to buying postcards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From The Ends Of The World, A Postcard

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://slodwick.livejournal.com/profile)[**slodwick**](http://slodwick.livejournal.com/)'s A Picture's Worth 1000 Words challenge. Big smooches to both [](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/profile)[**oxoniensis**](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/) and [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=pheobesmum)[****](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=pheobesmum)for betaing and helping cull the word count. Thanks to[](http://ahab99.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ahab99**](http://ahab99.livejournal.com/) for American-checking.
> 
> My assigned picture is currently missing from Photobucket, but it probably works without it.
> 
> ETA: Now available in [audio](http://www.livejournal.com/community/podslash/4144.html).

The one thing that could be said about Dan Rydell was that he had a rather whimsical approach to buying postcards. Every time he traveled, he bought a postcard. They showed up in Casey's mailbox, postmarked and covered in Dan's slippery handwriting, with an ever-simple message on the back:

 _Casey, I'm in [insert town here]. I just spoke to [whichever sports personality] and got confirmation on [relevant sports story]. I’ll tell you more when I get back. Dan._

From that perspective, Danny's postcards were perfectly rational and reliable. The whimsical part came from his choice of postcards.

From Denver, Colorado, Casey got a postcard featuring three fish tails. Not the whole fish, just the tails, still wet-looking and covered in scales.

 _"One of the best modern forms of communication is the postcard," Casey announced as he stepped into their office. "It combines words and images, invoking affection, wistfulness and envy."_

 _Dan didn't look up from the laptop. "Uh-huh."_

 _"The purpose of a postcard, Danny, is to give other people an idea of where you've been. It lets them picture it, imagine it. You send someone a postcard of a beach at sunset, and they can almost feel the sand beneath their feet, the last rays of warmth on their face. It's the next best thing to going there themselves."_

 _"Mmmm." It almost sounded like agreement._

 _"Or you go to a city and you send a postcard of the skyline, of the whole town lit up at night. Or maybe you choose a natural beauty, or some historic monument. You give this person an insight into this magical, unknown place. It’s a moment of sheer escapism, a way for them to feel closer to you and closer to this incredible place."_

 _"You've been to Denver before." Dan looked up from his screen, pencil gripped between his teeth. "It's not magical."_

 _"But you could have sent me a postcard that made it look that way," Casey objected._

 _"I really couldn't have."_

 _"You sent me fish. Fish, Danny. What have I ever done to you to warrant fish?"_

 _"It's not the kiss of death, Casey." Dan didn't even have the grace to look sheepish about it. In fact, he looked amused. "It's a postcard."_

 _"Of fish," Casey pointed out sullenly, sitting behind the desk. "Why fish?"_

 _Dan shrugged. "Why not?"_

From Baton Rouge, Louisiana, Casey got a postcard of carrots. On a pure white rectangle of cardboard, there were three shockingly orange carrots (with their extremely green stalks sprouting from their crowns). Vegetables that looked so unrelentingly healthy made Casey nervous.

 _"Carrots, Danny? Are you trying to tell me something?"_

 _"Like what?"_

 _"Like I should eat more vegetables?"_

 _Dan shook his head as he scribbled another line for tonight's possibly-exclusive news story. "Not really."_

 _"Then why send me a postcard of root vegetables?"_

 _"Why not?" Dan asked, and Casey rolled his eyes and turned back to the phones._

From Rapid City, South Dakota, Casey got elephants. The postcard showed a river bank, cool blue water gently lapping under a high midday sky. It would have been a very relaxing place to vacation, if not for the hulking, grey elephants crossing it.

 _"I don't get it, Danny," Casey said, settling on the couch._

 _Dan threw him a look over his shoulder as he hung up his coat. "What don't you get?"_

 _"You went to Rapid City, right?"_

 _Dan nodded. "Right."_

 _"Rapid City is, true to its name, an actual city, right?"_

 _"Yeah."_

 _"So it's safe to say that there aren't elephants wandering down the street?" Casey asked, and could see the moment Dan caught the reference._

 _It was all in the way Dan's eyes gleamed just a little brighter, the way his lips quirked just a little higher. "I'd say that's a safe bet."_

 _"So why the elephants?"_

 _"Why n--"_

 _"No," Casey said, standing up. "Don't 'why not' me, Danny. Tell me why."_

 _Dan chuckled. "You're more than a little insane, you know that?"_

 _"That's because I have a shoebox of postcards that say nothing about where they were bought. The purpose of a postcard, Danny, is to give other people an idea of where--" Dan raised his hand up, palm facing Casey, and Casey fell silent._

 _"You keep my postcards?" Dan asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. From that angle, his uncertain smile looked more like a smirk._

 _Casey shrugged. "I keep all your letters."_

 _"In a shoebox?"_

 _"In a shoebox." Casey pushed his hand through his hair. "A shoebox filled not only with letters from you in college, but also with picture of elephants, carrots, shopping trolleys, umbrellas and empty coffee cups. And that’s just a few of the oddities you call postcards."_

 _Dan watched him for a moment, his dark eyes showing very little. Then softly, so very softly, he said, "I buy them because they bug you."_

 _"What?"_

 _"They annoy you," Dan said in a more normal tone. "You're persnickety and particular to a fault, Casey. Anyone else would be charmed by an unusual postcard. But you have to analyze it and worry over it, searching for a logical explanation, a justification of pretty pictures."_

 _"And you buy them because they annoy me?"_

 _"They're pretty, and they make me think of you, so I buy them." Dan blinked, wincing for a micro-second as he realized what he'd said. "I mean, they make me think how much they'd bug you."_

 _Casey frowned, thinking that over, and when he looked up, he noticed that Dan's neck had a distinctly red tint. "Okay."_

 _"Okay?"_

 _"At least now I know why you buy them."_

When the latest postcard arrived from Portland, Oregon, Casey didn't over-think it. Instead, he went back upstairs, dragged the shoebox out from under his bed, and added the postcard to the whimsical pile. He took a moment to admire it -- a monochrome picture of sunglasses reflecting some unknown beach -- and even Casey could see a certain beauty in the stark, restrained shades of grey-on-grey.


End file.
